Blame It on the Bachelor by Karen Kendall Page B

radiating from her intelligent eyes, the determination under the soft contours of her lips. “Because now feels right.”
    “And why didn’t it feel right before?”
    She was a beautiful, blond Spanish Inquisition. Should he confess his sins? “I was too busy being a hotshot to focus on anyone else, okay? It was all about me.”
    “So now that part of your life is over, you miss being the center of attention and you want someone to pass the time with?”
    Ouch. Dev turned away from her and flopped on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Listen, Kylie—you’re making me feel like some kind of criminal.”
    “Sorry. I guess I don’t see you as the settling-down type.”
    Dev struggled up to his elbows and glared at her. “Hell, I didn’t say I wanted a wife, two-point-four children, a dog and a white picket fence yet. I just want a girlfriend.”
    Kylie’s lips twitched. “I’ve got some news for you, Sparky—at our age, most girlfriends are going to want the relationship to lead to something.”
    He laughed bitterly. “Right now I’m just trying to keep a fish alive,” he said. “A lousy fish.”
    Kylie lifted an eyebrow. “How’s that working out for you?”
    “Truthfully? He looks like he’s got fish flu.”
    She laughed. “Dev, really, don’t take this the wrong way, but that doesn’t bode well for the girlfriend.”
    He glowered at her. “What’s so wrong with me? I have a past, maybe, but so does everyone. Just because I’m a relationship rookie doesn’t mean I’ll fail at it.”
    “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
    “So how about it?”
    Kylie went very still. Then she turned toward him and sat upright, inching away and leaning against the headboard. “How about what, exactly?”
    “I’d like to see you again.”
    She blew out a breath. “Look, this has been great. But it’s just been sex.”
    “ Great sex.”
    “Yes, but still only sex. And frankly, I’m not looking for anything else.”
    “So? You found it—me—anyway.” He tried a big white grin on her. No dice.
    “I just got out of a relationship.”
    “Just?”
    “Well, eight months ago.”
    “That’s not all that recent.”
    “To me, it is. I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to jump back into dating one person.”
    Undaunted, Dev took a different tack. “Okay, try thinking about it this way—have you ever bought a pair of shoes when you didn’t need one, but ran across a great sale?”
    Kylie let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, but—”
    “Or a hot dress?”
    “Sure, but that’s not—”
    “It is the same thing. You may have found me unexpectedly and at a discount, but that’s good fortune. Lady, you should definitely take me home. I’m one hell of a bargain.”
    “Devon—”
    “Six-two, full head of hair, well-hung, no stock portfolio but I do own property—”
    “Stop.”
    “—charming, tolerant of female foibles, mostly housebroken—”
    “Stop!”
    He stared at her, perplexed. “Is it my lack of a foreign language? If so, I can learn Spanish.”
    “It’s not your lack of a foreign language, for God’s sake.”
    “What’s the matter? I’m not trying hard enough?”
    “You’re trying too hard. ” Kylie slid her legs over the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom while he gazed at her delectable ass.
    “Well, why didn’t you say so? I can do a fantastic sneering, son-of-a-bitch impression. See?”
    The bathroom door shut on his best too-cool-for-this-world face. Dev sighed, dejected.
    Dejection, like envy, was a completely new emotion for him. Another one he didn’t understand. Devon McKee didn’t get dejected. Depressed every once in a while, sure. For that, he had reason.
    But generally, he was the life of the party, even when there was no party. He didn’t envy anyone, because he’d always been the one envied. He’d always had it all—the musical talent, the looks, the lifestyle, the toys, the chicks.
    Yeah. He’d had it all.
    If only he could remember how and why all